


there she was, my new best friend

by orphan_account



Series: this is what makes us girls [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Gen, Other, Riverparents, So stay tuned, because penelope's parents are the worst, but hermione's family is the best, parentdale, rivermoms, this might turn into a series of one-shots about the rivermoms as little kids, tw implicit racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15401025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A series of one-shots that glimpses into the lives of the Rivermoms when they were little kids.The first one starts out with nine year old Hermione knocking on the door of the weird house on the street, where she meets a strange red haired girl who's never played with sparklers before. Hermione is there to change that.





	there she was, my new best friend

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a one-shot, but now I want to make it into a series. Any feedback on the family dynamics are appreciated. Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Also, I am AWARE that "Edgar" is the name of our new cult guy in S3, but penelopeblosscm has headcanoned that it's also Penelope's grandfather's name. And that is one of many headcanons I grew attached to and integrated into this story!
> 
> Mild TW for implied racism toward the end (not by Edgar)

The rectangular cardboard box was flattened, but Hermione was relieved to find that the two silver sparklers were still intact. She had no fake explanation as to why she kept these after Independence Day Weekend had passed prepared if someone asked. The girl quietly shoved the box as far she could into the back pocket of her shorts. This needed to be kept top secret, except from Andrea and Terry. Her ponytail did nothing to stop hair from sticking to the back of her neck in this heat. Maybe she should just get some ice cream and call it a night. No, she wanted to do this. She waited for the 1977 Chrysler to disappear down the street and added a minute, just in case. She let out a quick exhale before walking down and across, to the house of the girl she didn’t know. The shoelace of her left foot became undone, and she stopped right next to another neighbor’s car as she remembered the steps to tie it. One bunny ear, another, send one through the rabbit hole and done – just like Terry showed her. She silently congratulated herself before resuming her mission. As she approached the house, her chest filled with bubbles – not like the kind Daddy gets when he eats too much too fast, but a kind that told her this could end in any way. Was it even worth it? Hermione was not sure how many other opportunities she would have to try something like this. She noted the tree stump in the middle of the yard, just cut last month. If one did not know of the residents of the home, the house would seem to blend in just fine with the rest of the neigborhood. It appeared like any other ordinary place, but it’s the people that make the home. And these people were weirdos. But nonetheless, Hermione took a step onto the stone walkway.

She looked up as something moved in the corner of her eye. She noted the comically out-of-place stone gargoyle as she stepped on the front porch. With a muted yellow paintjob on the house as backdrop, it simply looked silly. Hermione raised her hand to ring the doorbell, but froze. _What if she isn’t even home?_ Her hand closed, then she let out her index finger to push the button. The ring most definitely would be heard by anyone in the home. It reminded Hermione of the bells at Sunday morning mass. She heard a shuffle of footsteps on the other side of the door, then sensed someone peering through the peephole. The child quietly hoped they couldn’t see her and just leave it shut, but she couldn’t help but offer a polite smile as the door creaked open.

There, stood a man of elderly age. He looked down at the child through the screen door.

“Good evening,” he stated.

She pursed her lips as she noticed his accent. Hermione wondered how the heck he wasn’t dying underneath the thick brown sweater on his tall but frail frame.

“H-Hi. My name is Hermione.”

“Oh, that is a lovely name. It is nice to meet you, Hermione. My name is Edgar. Are you a friend of my granddaughter’s?”

“I—” Hermione paused.

She wasn’t exactly friends with the quiet girl she saw in the hallways at Riverdale Elementary. They weren’t even in the same homeroom. She couldn’t even remember her name – Paula? Patricia?

“I am. Can she come out to play right now?” Hermione just went for it.

“I will have to check with her. Would you like to come inside?”

Hermione knows not to go into the homes of strangers.

“I – I should probably wait out here. My mom says I need to stay on the street where she can see me.”

“That is ok, dear. I will go see if Nellie is available right now.”

He shut the door. Hermione spun on the balls of her feet as wondered what brought her here. _Nellie? That wasn’t even close to Paula or Patricia._ She checked the back of her pocket, and sighed as the sparklers were still intact in the flat box, then put it back in her pocket.

“Hi.”

It startled Hermione. She looked up to see exactly who she came for. Nellie wore a white button-down shirt, tucked into dark green corduroy capri pants. Her bright red hair was fixed in two low pigtails. Her complexion would otherwise be tan if she were not inside all day.

“Hi,” Hermione echoed back.

“Grandfather says you asked for me.”

“Yes. My name is—“

“Hermione. I know you. I have seen you on the playground with Mary. All the boys chase you.”

Hermione extended her hand out.

“It is nice to meet you too,” Hermione responded, baring her teeth in a way that told the other girl she wanted to hear her name, just to make sure she heard the old man right.

The redhead looked down at the other girl’s hand, and shook it with softness and brevity. Hermione hoped she didn’t notice how sweaty her hand was.

“My name is Penelope.”

“Penelope… and your grandfather calls you Nellie?” Hermione asked with raised eyebrows.

“Only him.”

“Ok…”

“What brings you to my residence today?” Penelope asked.

“I… I wanted to bring you these,” Hermione pulled the flat box from her pocket.

She extended her arm, and Penelope just stared at it.

“What… are they?”

Hermione shook the box and giggled. What kind of question was that? Penelope just stared back at her with genuine confusion. Hermione’s eyebrows knit together.

“You – you’ve never played _with sparklers_ before?” Hermione asked.

“No. I can’t say I have. But I see you and your sisters outside all the time,” Penelope replied.

“I see you watching us from your window sometimes,” Hermione said.

Penelope’s eyes widened, much to Hermione’s annoyance.

“Well… take it,” Hermione stated impatiently.

“I – I can’t. Father would never let me…”

Hermione’s hand fell to her side, and she looked out to the street. This girl was what Terry would call… a lost cause. She sighed, before looking back to the strange girl.

“You don’t have to tell them… you know,” Hermione replied.

“I couldn’t—“ Penelope began.

Just then the screen door of the house flew open, startling the girls. Edgar stepped out, moving his hands as he spoke.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Nellie. Take the sparklers! Go, I promise not to tell Mummy and Daddy,” the old man stated.

“But, Grandfather—“

“Go! Before they return,” Edgar said.

Penelope’s face softened, and she smiled at Hermione. Hermione looked to Edgar, who looked back and mouthed _Thank You._

“Thank you, Grandfather,” Penelope said before following the other girl.

Hermione made her way to the street, and waited for Penelope to catch up with her. Her pigtails bounced as she crossed over each stepping stone.

“So… you got any siblings?” Hermione asked.

“No. Just me.”

“I got two older sisters," Hermione stated the obvious with pride.

“That sounds like fun,” Penelope stated with a hint of jealousy.

“It is,” she bragged.

“Do you have any pets?” Penelope asked.

“No.”

“I have a dog and a horse,” Penelope said matter-of-factly.

“That sounds like fun.”

“Well, technically they’re Grandfather’s. But I get to play with them whenever I want.”

“That sounds like fun,” Hermione repeated.

“It is,” she bragged.

Hermione sighed, and kicked a piece of gravel down. She watched it tumble across the asphalt.

“Did you just stay inside all day for Fourth of July?” Hermione asked.

“Grandfather took me to the parade and I had a milkshake at Pop’s,” Penelope answered.

“And you watched the fireworks from your room?”

“Obviously.”

“Cheese and crackers. I was just asking,” Hermione replied.

“Sorry. It’s just… I was supposed to be in bed at that time,” Penelope said.

“I’m not going to tell anyone. And I don’t think your grandfather will tell anyone either,” Hermione said.

“But if you could see me from your house, how many other people could see me at my window?”

Hermione stopped in her tracks, and looked to Penelope. The girl with red hair stared at the ground, not even kicking at gravel for fear of scuffing her mary janes.

“Why do you worry so much about people seeing you?”

“Because, I was _supposed to be in bed_. And Father wouldn’t be very happy to find out I disobeyed his orders.”

“Well, your father isn't here now. You’re with me. And we are going to have fun,” Hermione said with a lighter voice.

Penelope looked up and offered a closed-mouth smile. Hermione resumed walking, and Penelope was right next to her. When they arrived in the front yard of the Reyes’ home, Penelope’s eyes widened.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“It’s just… I never noticed you had a tire swing,” Penelope replied.

“Oh, yeah. That? My daddy built that for us forever ago.”

“I wish Father could build things. All he does is write scripture in his journals.”

“Where do you go to church?” Hermione asked, thankful for a topic of common interest.

“We don’t attend church. We call a minister over from time-to-time,” Penelope answered.

“Oh… well… do you wanna get these bad boys lighted up?” Hermione switched gears.

“I would like that.”

“Great. Hold on, one sec… Actually, do you wanna come inside while I find one of my sisters? Andrea and Terry are allowed to use matches, but I’m not because I’m the littlest,” Hermione stated.

“Ok.”

Hermione opened the front door. The two stepped inside, and were grateful for the cool air blasted by the air conditioner.

“You can wait here in the living room, or come upstairs with me.”

Penelope decided to follow Hermione – she didn’t even like being alone in her own home, let alone someone else’s. She was immediately in awe at how bright Hermione’s home is, at how many pictures of her family hang up along the staircase. All the wall décor in her own home is just of dark oil paintings. She looked at a family photo; she recognizes Hermione, and saw two other beautiful girls with dark hair and brown eyes like hers, and a woman and man – they all offered smiles that were much different from the few smiling portraits of her family. There was something that felt more real about them. Another frame showed the visage of an older woman with dark curls and lipstick, her eyes don’t follow like the creepy portraits in her own home, but she had an amiable and familiar sparkle that was preserved well in the photo.

“That’s my Abuela,” Hermione stated as she looked to Penelope, who stood on the stairs.

“Abuela?”

“Abuela means grandmother in Spanish.”

“Well, your Abuela is pretty.”

“Thank you. I miss her.”

They resume walking. Penelope found that she wanted to absorb every image she saw here. When they made it upstairs, Hermione took a sharp turn and stopped at a white door with a brass Monaco-style door knob. She knocked twice before opening without hearing a response. Penelope stood, not knowing what to expect, or of what was expected of her. Hermione gestured for her to come in. Penelope followed, and found a dimly lit room. She noted the purple shag rug, purple bedding, and the stereo set at the foot of the bed - but most of all, the overwhelming presence of pop stars she would never be allowed to listen to.

“Hey Terry,” Hermione stated with a sweet voice.

“What do you want, Minnie?”

_Minnie? And she thought Nellie was a weird nickname?_

“I brought a friend over.”

Penelope struggled to contain the way her heart leaped at someone calling her their _friend_.

“Ok- you thought to introduce me?”

“I need you to help me light a match.”

“Are you trying to play spa? After the mess you made the last time?”

“What? No. And don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy that. No, sissy. I need you to light some leftover sparklers for my friend and me. She’s never played with sparklers before,” Hermione’s voice dropped, trying to talk through a side grin.  

Terry looked to Penelope, who offered a smile. She turned back to Hermione.

“You're friends with the girl from the Bennett home?”

Penelope was too pre-occupied looking around the room to notice.

“I saw her on the Fourth sitting alone in her window. I thought it would be nice to… I don’t know… share with her?” Hermione defended.

“When have you ever cared to share with anyone, Minnie?”

Hermione frowned, but she was not genuinely hurt, from what Penelope could see.

“Please, Terry.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t,” the older girl stated before looking to Penelope, “I’m Terry.”

Terry extended a hand out for Penelope to shake. She stared momentarily before realizing she was supposed to shake it.

“I am Penelope. It is nice to meet you.”

Terry looked to Hermione with a raised eyebrow, as if she had dragged some cryptid into their house. If Penelope were not looking around Terry’s room, decorated with posters of Prince and Paula Abdul, she might have noticed this.

“Minnie, can you grab the matches from the junk drawer?”

“Yeah.”

Hermione began to make her way out of the room before turning on her heel to face the other young girl.

“Penelope?”

“Huh?”

“Are you coming?”

Penelope broke out of the trance she was in, and nodded before following. Terry swung her legs over the bed, and left her latest issue of _Tiger Beat_ open. She had to catch up on the all the latest news about John Stamos in _General Hospital_. Hermione guided Penelope back down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Hermione ran to a drawer closest to the entryway of the kitchen. It was just below eye-level as she sifted through it. A grin appeared on her face as she found it. She bounced on her toes as she approached Penelope, who looked around the kitchen with wide eyes. There was so much light and warmth in here. There was a lingering aroma of a homecooked meal. Hermione giggled at her friend’s expression.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just… your house.”

“What about it?” Hermione looked worried.

“It just feels like you have a lot of fun here.”

Hermione's expression softened.

“Not really. I get _so_ bored in the summer. Mommy and Daddy are always working, and my sisters and I get so sick of each other. You should come over more often.”

Penelope’s eyes brightened.

“I would like that, Hermione.”

“ _Rad!_ ” Hermione exclaimed before she dragged Penelope back to the front door.

Penelope grinned ear-to-ear. She wasn't sure what "rad" meant, but she could tell by the other girl's enthusiasm that it was meant to be a compliment.

“Minnie! Close the drawers!” Another voice echoed from where they just left.

“That’s my other sister, Andrea. She is not as _rad_ as Terry,” she whispered.

“I doubt that. Your family seems _rad_ ," Penelope tasted the new word with a smirk.

Hermione giggled again, and they walk out the door. Terry waited outside on the front porch.

“Are you ready?”

Hermione looked around outside. The sun was nearly set, and she swore if she biked closer to the woods, she would have heard cicadas.

“Maybe we should wait until it gets darker, so you can see the sparks better,” Hermione offered.

“I can’t wait. My parents will probably be home when it gets dark outside,” Penelope said, embarrassed.

A silence passed over the three girls out front. A few other children in the neighborhood could be heard shouting in the distance.

“Ok… Well…” Terry slapped the tops her knees.

“Let’s just do it now,” Hermione said as she tossed the box of matches to her.

Terry almost dropped it, but smirked as her hold steadied. Hermione rolled her eyes before pulling the box of sparklers from her back pocket. She handed one over to Penelope, who stared at it. It was just a metal stick with grey sand on it.

“Penelope. You go first. You’re our guest,” Hermione said.

Terry looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows.

“What?” Hermione sassed.

“Nothing, nothing,” she replied as pulled a match from the box.

Penelope extended her hand with the stick toward Terry, who sat backwards abruptly. Penelope wondered if she had done something wrong.

“Hold it away from people’s faces,” Terry said as she adjusted Penelope’s wrist so the sparkler faced the walkway.

“Sorry.”

"Don't mind her. She's just trying to keep her looks up in case she runs into _Matthew,_ " Hermione teased.

"Am not."

"Ok, sis."

Terry looked at Hermione with a look that said  _if you keep this up, so help me._  

Hermione giggled while Penelope struggled to think if she should talk or not. As Terry dragged the stick along the box’s striker, her hand slightly trembled. Penelope felt tingles in the back of her neck as the match stick struck against the box, and then, it ignited. Penelope’s eyes followed the little orange flame that met the end of her sparkler. It caught on, and began to shoot off little gold stars. She extended her arm further out to the sidewalk, and stood completely mesmerized by the stars. Mother and Father would never let her play with fire. Hermione’s giggle broke her out her trance, yet again.

“What is it?” Penelope asked.

“Are you just going to stand there?”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

Hermione’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She giggled again.

“Minnie. Don’t be rude,” Terry scolded from behind.

Hermione stepped forward, and touched the end of the sparkler in her hand to the lit one. It ignited almost instantaneously. Penelope’s face was expressionless as she did this.

“Haven’t you ever seen _Cinderella_?” Hermione asked.

The realization surfaced on Penelope’s face with a smile. Of course, she had! What kind of question was that? Grandfather insisted she watch it with him at the Twilight Drive-In on her sixth birthday. She immediately bounced to the grass, where she began waving the sparkler around.

“There you go!” Terry cheered.

Hermione soon followed with hers. Penelope was overcome with laughter as Hermione began shouting the _Fairy Godmother song_ at the top of her lungs. They giggled as they ran around in circles. Warmth filled Penelope’s cheeks as she swished the sparkler around, watching it make all kinds of shapes in the air. She wasn’t even bothered by the faint smell it left behind. She actually kind of liked it. Terry’s eyes widened as she watched her younger sister and the girl. She then quickly and quietly crept back into the house. Hermione noticed, but said nothing. Penelope was far too entertained with this magic. It really was like magic. Maybe that's why her parents would never let her play with fire, the magic of it was too much like occultism. She didn't even think of this as she flicked the sparkler around. Terry then re-appeared the doorway with what looked like her camera, and she fiddled with the knobs on it before raising it. Hermione inhaled before restarting the song, making Penelope follow her around the perimeter of the yard, and then to the center. There was just light enough for Terry to get the perfect shot, and she was certain she did. She waited for the Polaroid to develop, shaking it gently. Penelope let out a high-pitch laughter while Hermione's singing-shouting performance slowed because of exhaustion. She spun fast in a circle as it fizzled out. Hermione spun in adjacent to her. They caught each other in blurs with each step. They caught their breath as they realized how dark it got outside in those few minutes. Hermione watched Penelope’s smile falter slowly as the sparklers went out. They landed on the grass in fits of laughter.

“Well… did you like it?” Hermione asked.

Penelope stared at the sky, then to the other girl.

“I… I really enjoyed that! Thank you!” Penelope squeaked.

Terry felt her heart melt as the young girls talked in the middle of the lawn.

“Whew… I had a ton of fun too… And running around sure is tiring. I could use a pick-me-up. How about you?” Hermione asked.

“A what-me-up?”

“A pick-me-up. Want some ice cream? We got tons in the ice-box,” Hermione suggested.

Penelope loved that idea.

“Yeah.”

Hermione rolled on her belly to face her sister, who remained in the doorway.

“Hey Terry! Can we--” Hermione paused and asked the girl something quietly, Penelope nods, “Can we have ice cream? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“Sure. Let’s go inside.”

The two girls raced to the door. Hermione halted, before promptly plucking the dead sparkler from Penelope’s hand, and set her own neatly on the concrete before the steps began. Penelope followed, and they sat down at a table. Terry went on her tip-toes to reach the top-shelf for some bowls. An ice-cream scoop sat in a cup of warm water on the counter. Penelope’s swung her feet back and forth as they waited.

“What kind do you like? We have vanilla, and rocky road, and strawberry.”

“Um… strawberry please?” Penelope requested.

“And how many scoops?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

She was not used to that question.

“How many scoops?” Terry repeated softly.

“One, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. Thank you—“ 

Hermione placed her hand on the other girl’s arm with an expression that confused Penelope.

“Really, Penelope? Live a little. Terry! She’ll take two with a cherry on top!”

“Two scoops of strawberry with a cherry on top! Got it.”

Penelope smiled at such generosity.

 “Minnie?”

“One scoop of vanilla, one scoop of rocky road, hold the cherry,” Hermione was prepared.

“I should have known, little sis.”

Hermione giggled, then quietly murmured “Yeah” to herself.

Terry placed the bowls in front of the girls respectively. She turned to Hermione.

“That will be one million dollars and six cents, m’am.”

Hermione scrunched her nose.

“How about a hug and a kiss instead?”

“Ugh. I guess,” Terry replied.

Hermione smiled as she stood on her seat, and threw her arms around her big sister. Terry let out a laugh as Hermione squeezed tight, then smacked a kiss on her cheek obnoxiously. Penelope awkwardly watched the scene.

“Thanks, sissy,” Hermione quietly said before sitting back down.

“Anything else you need before I go back upstairs?”

“I’m good. Penelope?”

“What? Oh… I am good too. Thank you so much, Terry.”

“You are very much welcome, Penelope.”

With that, Terry retreated upstairs. Hermione’s attention immediately shifted to the ice cream. As she picked up her spoon, Penelope gave her a weird look – not that many of her looks tonight haven’t been weird, but this was exceptionally weird.

“Something wrong?”

“Aren’t we going to say grace first?” Penelope asked.

“Oh… well. My family usually does that just before dinner… but… sure!”

Penelope smiled and reached her hand across the table. Hermione’s mirrored the motion.

“Do you want to lead?” Penelope asked.

“Oh, I can.”

“Thanks,” Penelope whispered as she bowed her head.

Hermione took a sharp inhale.

“Dios es grande. Dios es Bueno, y por eso todos los días le agradecemos por nuestra comida, su mano nos alimenta. Todos los días, Señor danos hoy nuestro pan de carda días. Amen.”

Hermione paused nervously, hoping she did it right, just like her Abuela taught her when she was little. She was glad Penelope asked her to say grace – it was one of the few times she felt connected to Abuela. She didn’t understand why her parents didn’t speak more Spanish around her.

“Amen,” Penelope echoed.

And with that, they dug in their ice cream.

“Was that in Spanish too?” Penelope asked.

“Mmhmm,” Hermione nodded, her mouth full.

“That’s _rad_ ,” Penelope said as she bit the cherry off the stem.

Hermione almost choked as she said that. She giggled, before setting her spoon down in the bowl.

“You keep saying _rad_ at like... the funniest times!”

Penelope finished chewing, letting the tart taste dance in her mouth for a moment.

“Isn’t that… like Spanish for something neat?”

“No! It’s… it’s English for something neat. It’s like saying bee’s knees, or I dunno… groovy,” Hermione said.

“Oh, I’ve heard of bee’s knees. My Grandfather says I’m the bee’s knees all the time. I don’t really get groovy though” Penelope said, she felt her cheeks flush.

“I don’t really get groovy either! It’s something I hear my mom say a lot,” Hermione confessed.

“It’s ok,” Penelope responded.

“I guess we’ll be the rad bee’s knees then."

“Guess so," Penelope laughed.

"Would you want to go for a bike ride with me and my sisters sometime?" Hermione asked.

"Oh... I don't own a bike, and I definitely don't know how to ride one."

"You can ride a horse though? Right?" 

Penelope nodded.

"That seems like it... like it takes a lot more skill than riding a bike. And Andrea doesn't always go with us, so you could use hers. She says it's for babies. But grown-ups ride bikes all the time - without training wheels!"

"Ok... Maybe. I... would have to ask Father."

"Ok. No pressure. You could always just come over to like hang out. Or if you want to watch a movie. We got tons of VHS tapes. Like _Cinderella_ and _The Fox and the Hound_ , and if... if you like romantic movies,  _The Blue Lagoon_. I'm not supposed to watch that one without a grown-up though."

Penelope's eyes widened. 

"Why not?"

"Something about it having too much kissing. I dunno. My mom covers my eyes at the parts I'm not supposed to see, which is a lot," Hermione takes a bite of her ice cream.

"Then, why watch it at all?"

"Because it's romance! Duh."

"Oh," Penelope nodded.

They were a few more spoons into their ice cream when a loud bang startled them both. They set their spoons down and looked at each other in unison.

“I’ll get it!” Andrea shouted as she shuffled down the stairs.

The voice that echoed from the main entry made Penelope’s heart drop half-way through the earth. She broke eye contact with the girl across the table.

“Is my daughter here?” A man’s voice asked.

“I don’t think so… who are you?”

“I am Ernest Bennett. I am looking for my daughter, Penelope. She is… nine years old, red hair. Tell me, is she here? I know there is another girl about her age from this residence. I see her running around the street, unsupervised almost every day of the week,” Ernest introduced himself snidely. 

“Um... One moment, please.”

Andrea attempted to shut the door, but a hand kept it open. Andrea looked at the hand, then to Ernest. Still in cove of the kitchen, Penelope looked to Hermione apologetically.

“That’s Father. I should go,” Penelope whispered.

Hermione watched as Penelope slid out of her seat, in a completely different state from moments ago.

“Minnie! Did you bring a friend over?”

“My daughter is no friend of some–”

The crash of a bowl on the ground made Ernest attempt to look behind Andrea, who tried very hard not to glare at him. Hermione stared at the bowl she knocked over when she hopped off the chair. It spun in a circle on the floor. The whole house grew quiet as it came to a stop. Hazel eyes stared into brown.

 _“I have to go,”_ Penelope mouthed before briskly walking to the main entry.

Hermione wanted to follow, but her feet were frozen to the floor.

“Penelope Elise Bennett, where have you been?”

“I am sorry, Father. I lost track of time and—”

“Enough,” he reprimanded.

Andrea stepped back, out of the way as Penelope approached him with her head hung low. Andrea turned her head, and noticed Hermione staring at her, as if she wanted her eldest sister to do something. Andrea shook her head. Hermione shuffled, and looked at Penelope as she stepped outside. His face was obscured by Andrea attempting to shut the door, but she noticed that Ernest gripped the girl’s hand tightly. Hermione couldn't hear what he was saying to his daughter. Penelope didn't make eye contact with him though.

“Yes, sir.”

The young girls exchanged one last glance as Hermione looked from a safe distance. Andrea shut the door and locked it, not even bothering to say goodbye. Hermione stared at the door, then to Andrea. Footsteps shuffled downstairs, and Terry asked what happened. She looked to the youngest sister. Hermione shook her head before her face crumpled into pure upset.

“It was time for her to go home.”

Terry remembers the picture sitting in her back pocket. She quietly retreated upstairs, and creeps into Hermione's empty room. She could hear Andrea attempt to console their little sister. The hall light shines on the glossy surface of the polaroid. The image of two, happy little girls running around in their front yard with magic sparklers was captured with the backdrop of their perfect little corner of Riverdale at sunset. Terry tucked the image away somewhere in the pages of an old _Cinderella_ book on Hermione's shelf. Maybe, one day, her friend would come back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed, but I hope even more that I got the translation for saying grace correct/accurate. :) Let me know if you would like some more!


End file.
